


Apex

by anonymousgratification



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, First Time Topping, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scent Kink, Snowballing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 18:37:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18856777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousgratification/pseuds/anonymousgratification
Summary: Dick wears something distracting during a spar.





	Apex

**Author's Note:**

> Having a bad week, so I wrote more porn. Hope someone enjoys what my suffering produces.  
> xo

Dick lands on top of him, irises telling him, _focus_.

Damian is focused. He is. He’s not thinking about how he smells. How it drives him _mad_.

He glimpses down at where Dick is on his lap— strong, heavy. He’s _bigger_ than him, even after all these years, and it’s—

Distraction. Damian clicks his tongue, sliding his body out from under him, forcing all his pent frustration into something else. He lands a hit on Dick, causing him to stumble back, and he lets out a little sound. 

Distraction. 

Dick calls a time out in their sparing, grabbing a bottle of water from the table, and tossing one his way. The lack of practice has Damian’s eyes lingering. 

Dick is wearing an agonizing pair of shorts. Black. Too short. Way too short. Reaching only to his upper thighs, showing all his scars, and his tanned, tempting skin. Damian knows how soft it feels. How good it feels against his. 

He looks away from him. Tim is down here. His father, too. Damian wouldn’t do anything even if they _weren’t._ He’d rather die a second time, than repeat the incident from a few months ago, when Alfred and Tim found him and Dick in a… not so innocent position. 

Inherently, Damian’s gaze moves back to him. He wishes he decided to stare in the other direction, as he watches Dick remove his shirt. 

The hard, jagged edges of his abs, and the trail of hair, and the small, cotton shorts, with Dick’s powerful, muscular thighs coming out of the holes, and his ass—

Dick prompts him to start again, and Damian attacks first.

It’s torture.

* * *

 

Training ends, and Damian’s more worked up than when he started. Dick disappears up the stairs, as his father calls him over and speaks to him briefly. Damian can’t get out of the conversation fast enough.

Dick’s in his room. Damian doesn’t knock, just opens the door and goes right for him. 

Back turned, Dick spins around to a familiar sensation. Fingers curl around his waist, caressing. Hands move lower, and lower, patient and slow until they reach the curve of his ass and turn aggressive. Damian squeezes around the firmness, groaning as he pushes forward and rubs their groins together. Their hips nudge. He yanks him closer, fingers tightening. 

Biting his lower lip and sucking on it, Damian looks as his lips, leaning closer, but not touching.  “You are so…” Another grunt. Another tug closer. “Infuriating.”

He kisses down his neck, more teeth than lips. 

Encouraging him, Dick slides his hands in his hair. “What’s got you so worked up?”

Damian tilts up just to glare at him, then reattaches his mouth. “You’re joking.”

“What? What is it?”

Damian wants to say _everything_. His voice. His scent. His taste. The way his body moves when they train. Like liquid. “Those shorts…”

Before Dick can even _think_ of an answer, Damian runs his tongue up the side of his throat then back down, so, so slow, then he pulls away, leaving a gentle touch of his lips behind, making Dick’s feel like he’s tingling at the ghost of his touch, the outline of his mouth. His hand slivers down his body, over the thin material of his shorts, fingers light— torturously light— kneading his cock.

He lowers his head, his tongue creeping across the flesh of his neck, lethargically rubbing himself down his body, his nose prodding his armpit, savoring the fragrance. “You smell wonderful,” he mumbles, peeking his tongue out for a stifled taste. 

Kneeling, Damian gazes up, staring at Dick’s savagely, like a fiend with an appetite for only him.

“Keep them on,” he says, and wraps his mouth around Dick’s bulge. His fingers coil around his cock, grasping him, gripping him, squeezing him.

Through the fabric, Damian kisses the head, frenching like it’s his mouth. He rubs him, fondles him with his fingers, sucks him above the shorts. 

Dick’s eyes roll back. He puts his hands on Damian’s head, pushing his hair back, fighting the desperation flowing inside him. He needs more. Needs Damian to shove down his pants and swallow him down, so entirely, and so glorious, like he always does. 

Fiercely, Damian looks up at him, like he wants to maul him. Removing his mouth, he yanks Dick’s shirt away and up, his tongue tracing his abs, licking at the wetness that comes into view. He devours the sweat on his chest and abdomen, whining as he goes, his mouth vibrating against his skin. 

He nips and osculates back down, his lips traveling back to his clothed cock. 

Dick grunts, tugging on his hair. “Dami…Damian.” 

Damian tilts away and smiles; cunning and ethereal, his white teeth making a rare appearance. Dick quivers at the feeling of that smile against him, as Damian sucks on him again. 

Dick can’t take his eyes off him. Hot with desire, and something warmer and sweeter in his heart when he looks down at Damian enveloped around him. He looks a little lower, sees Damian fidgeting and shifting on the ground.

Dick spasms, body heavy, grabbing Damian’s head and grinding. At his age, he shouldn’t be able to cum like this— over the pants, mouth alone. But Damian’s _immaculate_ under him— on his knees, long eyelashes framing those jade eyes; the ones that always seem to be on him. 

The material stains, and Damian keeps his mouth over it, inhaling, inspiring. He shoves his fingers into the waistband, lowering them and running his tongue along the mess. He licks at him, over his cock, down to his balls. Laps at his sweat and cum. Sucks at the tip. 

Dick is absolutely shivering, fingers a vice around the dark silk of his hair, watching as Damian situates himself, rubbing his thighs together, drinking his very essence.

Damian hoists his shorts back up, and stands. His lips go right for his. A bitter taste manifests, thick on his tongue, as Damian shares his orgasm with him. It has them both groaning.

Dick's thumb goes to his throat, as he pushes his cum back into Damian's mouth, feeling it move as he swallows. 

His hands go to his ass, tugging him closer, simultaneously leading him backwards, to the bed. They twist, and Damian lands on top, sitting on his thigh, grinding into it. He gasps away from their kiss, then leans in again for more. 

Damian grinds harder, rubs his arousal over his bare thigh. Dick knows just how desperate he is. Just how desperate he gets. Just how many times he’s cum before he’s even naked. 

The thought has his mind reeling. Wandering, at the shifting of his hips. The way he humps his leg, so satisfied by just that. So perfect. So eager. 

“Damian,” he says. He grips his hips, both pulling him closer and stilling him. “Fuck me.”

Going still, Damian straightens up. Dick can’t help the snicker coming out of him, at the expression on his face. 

He stutters. Sputters. “We’ve… I’ve…” 

Dick rubs his thumbs into his hips. Lowering his voice, he frames it as a question. “Do you want to?”

His hands run over the ridges of his abs, caressing him. “I…”

At his strange, uncertain display, Dick sits up and kisses him. Damian’s eyebrows are furrowed when they tilt away. Dick presses his thumb against his mouth. Instinctively, Damian kisses it.

“Tell me, baby. Have you thought about it?” He traces his upper lip, then his bottom one. Leaning in, he slides his thumb to his cheekbone, and speaks into his hair, right beside his ear. “Fucking me with your pretty cock?”

He can't hide his shiver. “I’ve… thought about it,” he says, stiff. 

Dick pulls away to see his face. It matches his voice. Damian’s eyes faintly flicker away, and Dick grabs his neck, slipping his fingers up through the hair on his nape. “You don’t have to just _think_ about it. I _want_ you to.” 

With an untamed look in his eyes, he pushes Dick down into the mattress, attaching his mouth to his, then to his throat; sucking, biting, and rolling his hips up over his. 

Clothes disappear, and Damian settles between his legs, dampening his fingers. He licks the left over perspiration, tracing the muscles with his tongue, and carefully slides a finger into him. He places searing, hungry kisses down up his body.

Silent praise is Damian’s breed, all soft kisses and gentle touches deadly hands shouldn’t have. He worships him, sucking a mark over his collarbone, curling his fingers. 

Gasping, body tightening, hips automatically pushing back toward the stimulation, Dick digs his fingers into Damian’s back. “You’re… _Fuck._ ” Breath hitching again, he jolts up the bed.

The little demon above him smirks, and another finger joins alongside, as he kneads that same spot, over and over until Dick’s writhing, moaning and twisting his hands in the sheets. 

Damian bites his lower lip, taking in the sight. Dick wanting, open, fucking himself back on _his_ fingers. Wanting him here. Wanting him to _fuck_ him.

A needy sound comes out of him. “Please…” Damian mumbles, softly whining. 

“ _Yes_.” Dick recites the word. Again and again until it sounds like nothing.

Skin burning, face burning, fingers turning to liquid heat inside his body, Damian pulls out and slicks himself, thinking he could get off just watching. Just _staring_ at Dick. 

Dick wraps his calf around his back, spreading his legs, tilting his hips. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous…” he goads.

Appalled by such a thing, Damian’s hands go to his waist, squeezing and trailing down, to his hips. He grips them, rubs himself over Dick, then removes a hand and fists himself, anglingbetween his legs. 

Too aroused, he can’t even think of the whimper that comes out of him, when he pushes the head of his cock inside. Warm. Tight. _Heaven_.

He chases after it. Connects with Dick in a way they haven’t before. It’s so— It’s so—

Shuddering, he lays himself over Dick, thrusting into him once, hard and fast, then relaxing. He curses into Dick’s throat, in Arabic. 

“You’re the first person I’ve ever been inside.” Damian moans, filing the information to keep. For the rest of his life. 

Dick knows he doesn’t say it to be sexy, more in the factual sense, but it still has his stomach fluttering, and lower.

“How do I feel?” he asks, teasing the scar on his spine.

Damian grunts. Circles his hips. Throbs inside him. “You _know_ the answer.”

“Maybe I wanna hear you say it.” Dick grinds toward him, provoking him. Damian doesn’t back down, or let him, sitting up, clutching at his hips, pulling out halfway, driving back into him. He angles his thrust a little higher, and Dick makes a fractured sound. It makes Damian’s blood sear, the very notion he’s producing such a noise. 

Slowing down, Damian sucks on his neck, leaving smears of his affection on the skin. “For me,” he mumbles, hardly a sound, but Dick hears him with astounding clarity.

"Damian. Baby." Hands in his hair, Dick yanks him closer. Burning eyes meet burning eyes. “Make me cum.”

Damian rolls his hips the way he always does when it’s reversed; desperate, after the sensation. Deeply, he drills into him. Grabs at his thighs. Bites at his neck, then at Dick’s lips below him. 

He fucks like he fights. Passionate, concentrated, _rough_.

The hot, burning sensation has Dick moaning and cursing. He’s not even sure what language. He swears he’s screaming. His voice can’t stop. 

There’s no upheaval. Damian barely gets his hand around him, and Dick barely starts to tingle, when his orgasm is yanked from him, tearing him open at the seams, making him melt and soften over the mattress. 

The same, incoherent mumbles come from Damian. Dick _feels_ it when he finishes, as Damian empties and pulses inside him, with a honeyed sigh of his name. 

Damian pulls out and collapses, laying over his thigh. He bites his lower lip, then Dick’s throat, right next to him.  “Mine,” he whispers, sacred in the space between his neck in shoulder.

“Mine,” Dick repeats. He caresses his back, shutting his eyes, bliss ebbing away. 

Dazed from his apex, or hopelessly happy, Dick doesn’t care to know, yet he begins to laugh. 

“I was your first in a lot of things. How much, do you think?” he asks.

Damian doesn’t answer, nuzzling his face into his neck. 

“The first inside you,” Dick says, hushed. “The _only_ one.”

“Shut up.”

“First you _imagined_?” 

Face warming, Damian tries to hide it further in his throat. Dick _doesn’t_ need to know the answer.

Snickering, Dick gasps, over exaggerated. “Damian…Was I your first love?”

Damian nudges his head to the side until they’re aligned, and kisses him. It’s slow, and they pull away even slower, eyes fluttering open. “That’s confidential.”

“So mysterious.”

Damian shifts to lay his head on his chest. He gently traces a scar on his bicep and rubs his cheek into his chest.

“Shower?”

Neither of them move.


End file.
